The Blonde Theory Read Online Free Page B

I avoid it for as long as I can. But it always comes up. How could it not?”
    “Well, maybe you shouldn’t tell them,” Jill chimed in. “Even if they ask.”
    I shook my head. “It’s part of who I am,” I said stubbornly. “I don’t want to lie about that. Why is it so scary anyhow?” After all, even if it
was
the death knell to my love life, I was proud to be a lawyer. It’s what I had wanted to do since I was a little girl, and I had done it, even though there had been lots of people who had tried to discourage me along the way. I was happy with my job, and I didn’t see why I shouldn’t be allowed to at least mention it. It was a part of
me.
    “Men are jerks,” Emmie said simply. “They’re scared to be with a woman they feel at all threatened by. And lots of them feel threatened by women who are smarter or more successful than them.”
    “So basically, it would be easier to get dates if I were just a dumb blonde,” I muttered, reaching up to tug at my naturally blonde hair, which, almost unfortunately, hadn’t actually succeeded in making me less smart. So much for the theory that blondes have more fun. I was the walking antithesis to
that
. “Because then I wouldn’t be the Scary Lawyer Lady. Is that what you’re saying?”
    The girls were silent for a moment.
    “No, not necessarily,” Jill said uncomfortably. Emmie looked nervous, and Meg looked lost in thought. I knew what they were thinking, and they were right. It sure
would
be a lot easier if I didn’t have anything going on north of my neckline. Whoever thought that intelligence—and the courage to go after what I wanted—would wind up being such a curse?
    “Say that again,” Meg said finally, breaking the stifling silence and turning to me with a gleam in her eye that made me a bit uneasy.
    “Say what?” I asked, looking from Jill to Emmie, who shrugged.
    “What you said a second ago,” Meg said, sounding excited.
    “What, that it would be easier to get dates if I were just a dumb blonde?” I glanced at her nervously. I knew Meg well enough to know that I should be more than a bit worried about the look on her face. I’d seen that look before. And it never ended well.
    “Yes!” she said triumphantly, grinning at us and clapping her hands with glee.
    “What’s wrong with you?” Emmie asked, staring at Meg skeptically. “You’re being weird.”
    “Nothing’s
wrong
!” she exclaimed. “I just had the best idea! For ‘Dating Files’!”
    “Dating Files” was one of the sections that Meg edited in
Mod
magazine. Each month, a different dating topic or strategy was dis-cussed. To be honest, I thought it was sort of ridiculous. I mean, I’d been reading “Dating Files” since Meg started working at
Mod,
and look where it had gotten me. Absolutely nowhere. I had even resorted to taking notes on the columns in one particularly discouraging dateless slump in my late twenties—and still nothing.
    “I’m trying to assign out ‘Dating Files’ for August, and none of our stringers’ suggestions or the suggestions we came up with at the editorial meetings really struck me as right,” Meg bubbled on. “But this. This is perfect!”
    “What’s perfect?” I asked slowly, knowing Meg well enough to be feeling just the teensiest bit apprehensive as she grinned at me like a lunatic. I had a bad feeling about whatever was about to come out of her mouth.
    “You’ll write ‘Dating Files’ for the August issue!” Meg said, clapping her hands again.
    “I will?” I didn’t have the faintest idea what she was talking about, but I knew I would have remembered agreeing to pen a column for her.
    She just kept on talking, as if she hadn’t heard me. “It’s perfect,” she said gleefully. “You can try dating like a dumb blonde for two weeks and write for
Mod
about how it changed your life!”
    “What are you talking about?” I asked slowly. “And what exactly is dating like a dumb blonde?”
    Meg shrugged and